


In Bloom

by parmaam



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Breakup, Idk what else to tag rip, M/M, Richie POV, Richie centric, Songfic, oof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 01:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13260300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parmaam/pseuds/parmaam
Summary: ❝we're never gonna see itall in bloom❞===Richie is denied his application to a New York radio station and things start to spiral out of his control.





	In Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Title and whole fic is based off of "In Bloom" by Neck Deep ! :)
> 
> Btw this fic is set in the 80s/90s or whenever the losers would be 18/19 so lets just pretend that the song was released then. Okay? Okay.
> 
> This is something i was requested to write by @chickenstriptozier on tumblr !!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for more content: @sleepyeds -It + Stranger Things sideblog  
> @avocadokiss -mainblog

It was mutual. Or at least that’s what Richie had convinced himself. And although things between him and Eddie had been spiraling downwards for the past few weeks, it still hurt.

The downwards spiral had started around the time that Richie’s application for a big New York radio station had been declined. He had been looking forward to getting out of Maine, out of his shitty job working the night hours at Derry’s local radio station. The only perk of his shitty job being that at night virtually no one in the small town was listening, and Richie could play whatever he liked; Journey, The Police, Toto, he music was up to him.

However, when his application was denied, he did not react well. He felt himself slowly starting to become more reclusive, spending as much time as possible at his day job at the record store, always offering to stay until lockup, where he would then drive his busted pickup truck straight to the radio station. He did not want to be left alone with his thoughts, and so he resorted to this non-stop routine, as if he wanted to lose himself.

But he wasn’t only losing himself.

He was losing Eddie too.

As Richie had been making himself busier with work, he spent less and less time with his boyfriend. Now, this was not usually a problem between the two, as they were not completely co-dependent. But Eddie was not thick. He had noticed how Richie had changed since the station denied him.

However, he had known Richie for nearly all of his 19 years on this planet, and he was fairly certain that Richie would pull himself out of his slump in a week or two. So when it became the third, the fifth time in a row that Richie would blow off their Thursday date night, Eddie started to become increasingly worried.

After a month or so of this he decided to confront Richie. To find out what was going on in that beautiful boy’s head.

To say the least, it did not end well. The calm conversation Eddie had been expecting had quickly escalated into an argument. Richie angrily stating how he felt trapped in this town, in this life, Eddie spitting back a venomous “If I’m trapping you so much I guess we should just break up!”.

“I guess so,” Richie replied, anger clouding his better judgement, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

“Fine!”

“Fine.” And with that Richie turned around and left his now ex-boyfriend standing on the side of the pavement. Jumping into his pickup he began to drive out of the carpark, the rush of adrenaline making his hands shake as they gripped the wheel with white knuckles.

He passed by Eddie as he drove out, and glancing out the window he caught a glimpse of his once boyfriend standing there, hands clenched into fists, face contorted in pain, head hung low. Richie didn’t notice the wetness of his cheeks until that moment. He wiped his cheek hastily as he pushed his foot down on the gas and drove away.

-=-

Richie’s feet scuffed the grimy floor as he slumped up the stairs to his apartment. His limbs felt heavy as he walked, the adrenaline from the fight wearing off, leaving him exhausted. As soon as he crossed the threshold into his small studio apartment he fell onto the bed, burying his face into the pillows.

Shit. He forgot to take his shoes off, Eddie would-. He sat up abruptly. Eddie didn’t care anymore. Didn’t care about his sorry ass and damn wouldn’t care if he was still wearing his shoes indoors. A few remnant sparks of anger swelled in Richie’s chest as he stood up and began to pace back and forth.

Eddie didn’t understand him. Didn’t understand what he was going through, how he just wanted to run, just wanted to get away from Derry. He should just go. Richie should just pack his shit and leave. He already established that Eddie wouldn’t have given two fucks, his parents could care less about him, and all the other losers had left Derry to go to college elsewhere. Literally nothing was tying him there anymore.

He threw on a record without thinking too much of his choice, a familiar guitar riff filling the small room as he pulled a worn duffel bag out of his closet and threw it onto his bed. Within less than a minute his bed was haphazardly covered in a mound of clothes, brightly coloured Hawaiian shirts sprinkled within jeans and band t-shirts. He started to shove handfuls of clothing into the bag, not caring to fold them. Something Eddie would be adamant to do. At that thought his actions stilled abruptly, and he actually heard the song that was playing.

I was such a little shit,  
Cause I was always on the run.  
Well you know just what they say  
“Just like father, then like son”

He tightly gripped the worn nirvana shirt that he was holding, coincidently a shirt Eddie had gotten him for his 16th birthday. The song continued as he fell to the floor, back slumping against the hard bed frame. He pulled his knees up to his chest, hands twisting and wrapping around the t-shirt.

Don’t delude me with your sympathy,  
Cause I can do this on my own.

Memories of a warm night in July flooded Richie’s memory. A night of insecurities and soft kisses. A night where promises of ‘forever’ and ‘always’ were whispered delicately. A night where first “I love you” ’s were exchanged.

An image of Eddie lying in his bed, hand reaching up to stroke a few stray curls from Richie’s forehead. The light from the bedside lamp casting soft shadows on Eddie’s face as he blew air softly into Richie’s face, smile lighting up his face, as the curly haired boy scrunched his nose. He dropped his hand down onto the bed and Richie intertwined their fingers.

Eddie’s eyes flicked down to their interlinked hands and sighed happily, “Chee, I’ll always be here for you, you’re not alone up there.” Richie huffed a laugh as Eddie tapped his forehead with his free hand.

“I know baby,” Richie smiled, bringing Eddie’s hand up to his lips and pressing a small kiss to his knuckles, “I know.”

  
-=-

  
It was now cold and dark in Richie’s room as he sat there, the reality of what he’d done was finally setting in. He had broken up with his boyfriend of one year, and fucked everything with his best friend of virtually his whole life. His heart ached as he replayed their fight in his head. Eddie had calmly asked Richie what was wrong, and Richie had just, blew up. Looking back he realized how much of a douche he had to be to get angry with his boyfriend- wait, ex-boyfriend -for simply trying to comfort him.

Genuine fights were few and far between the two, their constant playful banter was never taken to heart. And when that one fight would inevitably happen, they would never get extremely angry as Eddie knew how much raising his voice put Richie on edge, and even in times of anger he would still respect his boyfriend.

But this fight was different to all the rest. No matter how angry they would be with each other, they would always make sure to say “I love you.” before they left. That did not happen this time.

Richie threw his head forward onto his knees and exhaled as he replayed Eddie’s words. “I’m trapping you so much.” Eddie was wrong. Eddie was Richie’s rock, the one who had been there for him every night when his mother’s drinking would become too much. Eddie had been there every time to prevent Richie’s big mouth opening and getting him into trouble with Bowers, so that Richie wouldn’t end up with a busted lip and black eye. Eddie put up with Richie’s constant joking, one of the only losers who would never fail to quickly fire quips back. Eddie was Richie’s impulse control. He was the voice in the back of his mind, constantly reminding him to “Think of how dangerous doing that is, asshole.” Or to “Fucking re-evaluate your priorities.”

Eddie had loved Richie with all his heart. Had. Things weren't quite the same anymore.

‘Cause the truth is  
You’re the only voice I wanna hear in my head

Pushing his glasses up and pressing the palms of his hands into his screwed up eyes Richie stood up from his spot on the floor. He dropped the shirt onto the floor as he made his way to the small kitchenette, opening the gunked up window above the sink. Bringing a cigarette to his lips, he lighted it and blew a puff of smoke out of the window into the night sky. Eddie had convinced him to quit, and he had. But now Eddie wasn’t there anymore to remind him. To make sure that he didn’t subconsciously light one when he got stressed. He wasn’t there anymore to look out for Richie when he got them both involved in stupid shit. He just wasn’t there. And Richie’s heart ached to no extent.

Richie’s attention shifted to the phone hanging up on the wall opposite him. Exhaling, and blowing out another puff of smoke as he did so, he contemplated calling Eddie. Calling to apologize for his harsh words. Calling to apologize for giving up on the most important part of his life. But Eddie had uttered those words with such vigour Richie wasn’t a hundred percent sure that Eddie would listen. He could talk and talk but no one- not even Eddie -would listen. And that scared him.

Stop calling me out we’re never going to  
Put the pieces back together

Something deep inside Richie stirred as the song slowed, the voice singing softer, guitar quieter. Fuck it. He pushed off the counter, flicking the half-smoked cigarette out the window, and crossed over to the phone. He picked up the receiver and punched the number- a number that he’d had memorized since he was twelve -into the pad on the wall. Hands shaking, he held the receiver up to his ear and heard the familiar dial tone, free hand finding the coiled wire and playing with it anxiously. It rung, and rung, and rung, the tone almost mocking him.

The record was still playing in the background, the pace of the guitar picking up. But the phone just kept ringing, eventually cutting to the answering machine of the Kaspbrak residence. And as that tone hit every spark of determination left Richie. Slamming the phone back onto the wall, only for it to bounce back off and sway slowly from the hook on the wall, he sunk to the floor for the second time that night. He curled up against the wall, hugging his legs tight to his chest, trying to control the increasing pace of his breathing.

And that’s when he let the tears fall. Fat droplets splashing down his cheeks as he thought over the events of the night. How Eddie was never going to want him back, never going to want to fix them. How he had ruined his relationship with not only his boyfriend, but his best friend too. How there wouldn’t be any more lazy mornings with Eddie, no more Thursday night dates, no more of their playful banter.

Richie tried and failed to choke back a sob as he realized that his plans of spending the rest of his life with Eddie were shattered. Fuck. He bit hard into his knuckles as sobs wracked his gangly frame, trying to hold in the pathetic whimpers escaping his mouth.

We’re never gonna see it  
All in bloom

The record faded out, leaving the apartment silent apart from the sound of the record still spinning. His apartment and his mind were a mess and that was a problem for future Richie to deal with. But for now, he was so emotionally drained that he remained laying on the floor, not having the energy to move. Thinking of Eddie and longing for a time when things were simpler until he fell asleep.


End file.
